The sky was still pitch black when Cedric opened his eyes. A chilling mist clung to the gray buildings of the Northwest District, but inside apartment 237, there was no blaring children's music, no electric shock crawling up his spine.
Today, he had woken up on his own, exactly thirty seconds before the System's scheduled "violent awakening."
[Impressive. You beat the alarm.]
The System's voice rang out in his head, sounding genuinely surprised.
[It seems your body is adapting to the torture. Or perhaps you just really, really hate 'Baby Shark'. Either way, good job.]
Cedric didn't respond. He slid out of bed, his feet hitting the cold floor. He changed into his black tracksuit. His muscles still held the phantom aches of yesterday's exertion, but the searing "acid in the lungs" sensation was gone. The Moomoo Milk and Berry Juice were working miracles on his neglected physiology.
He stepped out into the pre-dawn darkness and began to run.
Relax. Relax. Relax.
His sneakers hit the pavement in a steady rhythm. His breath plumed in white clouds before him. The world was silent, save for the distant hum of the city's power grid.
At the 2.5-kilometer mark, he slowed down as the small, rusted park came into view.
She was there again.
The girl on the bench. The same silver-white hair cut in a bob with a single long braid. The same red eyes that looked as still as a frozen lake.
Today, however, she wasn't holding a simple burger. In her gloved hands sat a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese. Grease glistened on the meat patties; steam rose into the cold air. It was a monument to cholesterol.
Cedric stopped in front of her to catch his breath, hands on his knees.
Ellen looked up. Her gaze swept over the sweat on his forehead, then gave a single, sharp nod of acknowledgment.
"Respiratory rhythm stabilized by 15% compared to previous observation," she stated. Her voice was flat, professional, like she was reading a field report. "Acceptable progress."
"Thanks," Cedric wheezed, straightening up. He walked over and sat on the far end of the bench, maintaining a respectful distance. "Do you... eat that every morning?"
"Today is Sunday," she replied, taking a massive bite. She chewed with mechanical efficiency. "Caloric requirements are higher on rest days. Double protein intake is necessary to maintain performance metrics."
She swallowed. Then, with the same robotic courtesy as before, she tore a small corner off the wrapper and extended the burger toward him.
"Refuel? Efficiency increased by 200%."
Cedric looked at the dripping cheese and the slab of meat. His stomach, still empty, gave a small lurch of protest.
"No. Thank you."
"Understood."
She retracted her hand instantly, not offended in the least. They sat in silence for five minutes, two quiet souls in a loud city, sharing the solitude of the morning.
When she finished, she crumpled the wrapper into a dense ball. She stood up, adjusted her tactical backpack, and looked at him.
"Good luck," she said.
Cedric nodded. "Thanks."
She walked away, her heavy boots making no sound on the concrete, disappearing into the mist like a phantom.
***
By late morning, the apartment was clean, Cedric was showered, and the boredom had returned.
He sat on his bed, staring at the incubator. Thump-thump.
He had hours before his 7:00 PM "Movie Night" with Wise and Belle. The emptiness of the room was starting to itch at his brain.
[Get out.] The System ordered.
[You are stagnating. Go back to the arcade. Your hand-eye coordination is still subpar compared to a combat model. Go train.]
"It's Sunday," Cedric muttered. "It will be crowded."
[Crowds are good. They simulate the chaos of a battlefield. Deal with it.]
Cedric sighed, grabbing his windbreaker. "Fine."
The Godfinger Arcade was a war zone.
It was Sunday, and the place was packed. The noise level was deafening—a cacophony of electronic beeps, synthesized explosions, and the screams of children. The air was thick with body heat and excitement.
Cedric navigated the crowd like a shadow, slipping between groups of teenagers. He walked past the rhythm games, past the racing simulators, and headed for the fighting game section.
Most of the cabinets were taken, surrounded by cheering onlookers. But there was one machine in the corner that had an empty seat.
The Player 1 seat was occupied.
It was the shark girl. Ellen Joe.
Today, she wasn't wearing the yesterday outfits. She wore an oversized black t-shirt with a skull and crossbones print that hung off one shoulder, paired with impossibly short black denim shorts. A chocolate bar dangled from her mouth like a cigar.
Her massive black tail took up the entire aisle behind her, swishing lazily to the beat of the bass-boosted background music. It acted as a natural barrier; no one dared to get too close to the fin.
Cedric considered turning around. He didn't want trouble.
But Ellen looked up. She saw his reflection in the dark screen of the neighboring machine.
She swiveled her chair around.
"Yo," she drawled. Her voice was lazy, but there was a glint of recognition in her eyes. "If it isn't Snake Guy. Where you going?"
Cedric stopped. "Looking for a machine."
"This one's open," she jerked her chin toward the empty Player 2 seat next to her. "Sit down. Playing against the CPU is boring. They don't scream when they lose."
Cedric hesitated.
"Unless you're scared?" she added, a small smirk playing on her lips.
Cedric sat down. He dropped a token into the slot.
Clink.
"Change of pace today," she said, slapping the control panel.
"Street Fighter III. A real fighting game. Let's see if those fast hands of yours work when I'm punching back."
The screen flashed.
SELECT YOUR FIGHTER.
Ellen chose a female character named Chun-Li.
Cedric has never played this game that much before so he chose a character named Ken Masters.
"Best of five," she announced, popping the chocolate into her mouth. "First to three wins. Ready?"
"Ready," Cedric said.
[ROUND 1: FIGHT!]
The moment the whistle blew, Ellen transformed. Gone was the lethargy; she played with a chaotic, calculated wildness. Her long fingers danced over the buttons like she was playing a high-speed piano concerto.
On screen, Chun-Li rushed in. She achieved "corner carry" in seconds, trapping Cedric against the wall. She mixed him up with overheads and low kicks, leaving Cedric completely disoriented. He tried to block, but she repeatedly used a "tick throw" setup to toss his character aside every time he turtled up.
Less than thirty seconds. Cedric hadn't even landed a single normal attack.
[PERFECT!]
The golden text flashed on screen like a mockery.
Winner: Player 1.
Score: 0-1.
[ROUND 2]
"Gonna cry?" she smirked.
Cedric didn't answer. He adjusted his stance. This time, he stopped trying to attack blindly. He stopped. Cedric's purple eyes didn't focus on the flashy explosions; he looked at the spacing. He watched her movement. He counted the rhythm of her jumps.
One medium kick.
Two steps back.
Jump in.
She had a habit of pressing buttons in a fixed 1-2-1 rhythm.
Cedric lost the second round. Of course. But this time, his Ken had landed several "counter-hits." Chun-Li's health bar had been shaved down by 40%. He was beginning to see the "frames" behind the movements.
Winner: Player 1.
Score: 0-2.
[ROUND 3]
"Match point. Let's wrap this up," Ellen said, her tone sounding bored.
But Cedric had changed. The moment the round started, he switched to the offensive. Using the data he had gathered, he closed the gap. He feigned vulnerability to bait her into a predictable jump-in. The instant Chun-Li left the ground, Cedric's fingers blurred across the stick: double quarter-circle forward motion + Kick, mashing the button for maximum hits.
Super Art II: SHINRYUKEN!
Ken rocketed upward in an invincible, spiraling inferno of flames, vacuuming in Chun-Li mid-air before grabbing and drilling her with a devastating multi-hit barrage—a textbook anti-air punish.
Ellen flinched, her button-mashing rhythm broken for a split second by the surprise. That was all he needed. Cedric dashed in to punish the mistake with a simple but damaging combo. For the first time, Ellen was forced to retreat and block.
Winner: Player 2.
Score: 1-2.
[ROUND 4]
The air in the arcade corner was heating up. The clacking of buttons became more violent. This was a true slugfest.
They traded blows, chipping at each other's health, and "teching" each other's throws. Ellen was faster, her reflexes sharper, but Cedric was terrifyingly efficient. He wasted no movement. He didn't mash. He waited for her to "whiff" an attack, then struck during her recovery animation.
The match went down to the wire. Both were at critical health. Cedric snatched the win by a hair, clutching it out with a forward throw in the final second.
Winner: Player 2.
Score: 2-2.
A crowd had started to gather. Whispers rippled through the onlookers; phones were raised to record. The notorious "pub stomper" of the arcade was being pushed to the brink by a complete novice. The shark tail behind Ellen thrashed against the floor in agitation. She was actually trying now.
[FINAL ROUND: FIGHT!]
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The ambient noise of the arcade seemed to recede into the background.
Ellen bared her sharp teeth, grinning with a competitive, dangerous edge. "Alright. Playtime's over."
She completely changed her strategy. She played cautiously, "turtling" up. She utilized Chun-Li's range to poke Cedric from a distance, keeping him out. Cedric struggled to get in. His health bar dropped.
50%. 30%. 10%.
He was backed into the corner. No escape. She threw a flurry of low kicks. Cedric blocked them all, but the "chip damage"—damage taken even while blocking—whittled his health bar down to a single, blinking red pixel.
The Magic Pixel.
1 HP. Any hit would kill him. Even if he blocked a special move, the chip damage would finish him. Cedric was essentially a walking corpse.
Ellen chuckled. "Checkmate."
Her Super Art gauge was full. Her fingers flew across the input.
Super Art II: Houyoku-sen.
On screen, Chun-Li flashed with blue energy and launched forward, unleashing her signature devastating barrage: seventeen lightning-fast kicks.
The crowd gasped. It was over. There was no way out. Blocking meant death by chip damage.
But Cedric didn't flinch. In that split second, something clicked in his brain. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the System's influence. Maybe it was just pure, unadulterated focus.
He activated the skill he had earned yesterday. [Focus Energy]
Zzzzt.
A cold shiver ran up his spine. The world turned gray. The noise of the arcade faded into absolute silence. Time seemed to stretch like taffy. He saw the first kick coming. He saw the frame data. He saw the exact pixel of impact.
He didn't hold back to Block. He tapped the stick forward. Into the attack.
CLANG!
A metallic spark rang out, the sound crisp and piercing as Ken parried the first kick. The crowd went dead silent. The Parry mechanic: tapping forward the exact moment an attack hits.
High risk, but the reward was zero damage, no pushback, and reduced recovery time. But the Houyoku-sen wasn't one kick. It was seventeen.
Cedric didn't stop. His purple eyes were wide, unblinking, reflecting the flashing lights of the screen. His hand moved on the stick with terrifying, rhythmic precision.
Down. Forward. Down. Forward.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!
The sound of the parries rang out like a rhythmic drumbeat. He wasn't just blocking; he was walking through the fire. Each "Clang" was the sound of the reaper missing his throat by a millimeter.
Seven. Eight. Nine kicks parried.
"AIN'T NO WAY—"
The crowd began to scream. Fourteen. Fifteen.
Ellen's eyes went wide, her pupils dilating. Her tail went rigid behind her.
CLANG!
Sixteen
The final kick came—the overhead finisher. Cedric didn't wait for it on the ground. He jumped. He parried the last kick in mid-air.
CLANG!
Seventeen.
Chun-Li hung suspended in the air, recovering from the move, completely vulnerable.
"My turn," Cedric murmured.
Still airborne, he came down with a heavy kick. He landed with a Jumping Heavy Kick, connected a Crouching Medium Kick, and canceled it into his own Super Art.
Super Art III: SHIPPUU JINRAIKYAKU!!!
Ken Masters unleashed a flurry of flaming kicks, connecting with every single one. Chun-Li's health bar evaporated in a blaze of fire.
The screen flashed white.
[K.O.!]
[WINNER: PLAYER 2]
"HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE HELL IS EVEN THAT!?—"
The arcade erupted. It wasn't just applause; it was pandemonium. People were cheering, clapping him on the back, shouting about "The Parry."
Cedric let go of the joystick. His hand was trembling. A massive headache slammed into his temples, the side effect of the skill. He hunched over, rubbing his forehead.
Ellen stared at the "LOSE" screen. She stared at it for a long time, her mouth slightly open.
Then, she let out a long breath and turned to him. The arrogance was gone, replaced by a stunned respect.
"Wow," she shook her head. "That was... insane."
She reached for an unopened can of cold soda on the console and pressed it against Cedric's cheek.
"Here," she said, her voice softer. "Drink. You look like you're gonna pass out."
Cedric took the can, pressing it against his throbbing head. "Thanks."
"Good game," she stood up, stretching her arms over her head. "I haven't lost like that in... ever. But don't get cocky. Next time, I'm breaking your guard."
She grabbed her bag and turned to leave. The crowd parted for her like the Red Sea.
Cedric watched her go. He cracked open the soda.
Suddenly, she stopped. She turned around and walked back to him.
Thwack.
Her tail swung out and tapped him on the shoulder—gentle, but firm.
"Hey," she said, tilting her head, her red eyes locking onto his. "What's your name?"
Cedric blinked. "Cedric."
"Cedric..." she tested the name on her tongue. A small smile curled her lips, revealing a sharp tooth.
"Alright, Cedric. See you around."
She waved over her shoulder and sauntered out, her tail swaying happily behind her.
Bloop.
A strange, deep sound echoed in his mind, like a bubble bursting underwater. It wasn't the usual cheerful chime.
A dark blue notification window appeared.
[HIDDEN QUEST COMPLETE: THE SHARK'S RESPECT]
Condition: Impress Ellen Joe and win her respect
Description:"Sharks do not befriend minnows. They only respect other predators. Congratulations, you just proved you are not food... Or maybe not? Idk, only the future can answer."
[REWARDS DELIVERED:]
01 x Water-Type Pokemon Egg:
Description: A pale blue egg with white wave patterns. The shell is always cool and damp to the touch.
Active Skill: [Aqua Jet]:
Effect: Allows the user to cloak their body in a thin film of high-pressure water and dash at extreme speeds for a short distance.
Cooldown: No cooldown but will reduce your stamina
Side Effect: Your clothes will be soaking wet after use.
01 x Water-Incubator:
Description: A specialized incubator for Water-Types. Water-Type Eggs will hatch faster in this Incubator.
Cedric blinked.
"Another egg?" he murmured to the air. "I haven't even hatched the first one."
[Stop complaining. That is a high-tier reward. Store the egg in your inventory. You can hatch it when get home.]
Cedric sighed. His head was still throbbing, but deep down, a small warmth spread in his chest.
He hadn't just won a game. He had won respect.
"Home," he said. "I am tired."
***
Cedric returned to the quiet of his apartment. He felt grime on his skin—the sweat from the arcade, the dust from the street. He needed to reset.
He activate the Incubator and placed it carefully on the floor. Then, he accessed his Inventory.
He pulled out the new Water-Incubator. It was a sleek, cylindrical device made of transparent glass and blue metal. He placed the Water-Type Egg inside. The machine hummed to life, filling with a nutrient-rich liquid that suspended the egg in a gentle, swirling current.
"Two babies," he muttered, looking at the red light of the dragon egg and the blue light of the water egg. "I am running a nursery."
He then went into the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and stepped under the hot spray of the shower. He stood there for a long time, letting the water wash away the tension of the match, the headache from the skill usage, and the lingering smell of popcorn.
When he stepped out, he remembered Wise.
He reached for the fluffy grey towel on his desk. He dried his hair carefully, not rushing this time.
He put on his pajamas—soft, loose black cotton.
He checked his phone. He set an alarm for 4:30 PM. Just enough time for a nap before he had to get ready for the movie. He didn't want the System to wake him up with children's music again.
He crawled into bed. The sheets were cool. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic Thump-thump of the Pseudo-Legendary egg and the soft Bubble-bubble of the Water-Type egg.
It was a good sound.
He closed his eyes.
"Nap time." he whispered.
…
…
…
The sun was beginning to dip below the skyline of New Eridu, casting long shadows across the floor of Apartment 237.
Cedric returned to the room, his body sticky with the lingering sweat of the arcade. He needed to change before the movie. He walked to the wardrobe and pulled it open.
His hand reached for the top item on the stack: his usual, reliable, shapeless black t-shirt. It was safe. It was invisible. It was him.
[Stop.]
The System's voice rang out, sounding weary and deeply unimpressed.
Cedric froze, his hand hovering over the black fabric.
"What?"
[Put the shirt down, Cedric. Step away from the wardrobe.]
"I am changing."
[You are about to commit a fashion crime. You are going on a movie night. With a nice girl and her sister. In her house. Do not wear the 'funeral chic' look again. You look like you are mourning your own life.]
"I like black," Cedric muttered defensively.
[No is no. Tonight, you need to look like a human being who participates in society. I have a quest for you.]
A pink window—a color Cedric had never seen the System use before—popped into existence in front of the mirror.
[SIDE QUEST: SELF-LOVE]
Objective: Look yourself in the eye in the mirror and say aloud: "System, I love you very much."
Reason: "Humiliation builds character. Also, I deserve it for keeping you alive."
Penalty: 'Japanese Goblin' (10-Hour Endurance Loop).
Reward: Outfit Set: "Casual Elegance" + Silk Hair Ribbon.
Cedric's face contorted. He stared at the penalty line.
He knew that song. It was high-pitched. It was chaotic. It was dumb. Ten hours of that in his brain would liquify his remaining sanity.
"You are evil," he whispered. "This is extortion."
[It is affection training. Clock is ticking, sunshine. Do it, or the song starts.]
Cedric gripped the edge of the sink. His knuckles turned white. He fought the urge to refuse, to just put on the black shirt and suffer the noise.
He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached.
He looked up. He forced himself to make eye contact with his own reflection—the pale skin, the purple eyes, the messy black hair.
He took a deep breath. He spoke the words as fast as humanly possible, slurring them into a single, breathless sentence to minimize the damage to his dignity.
"System-I-love-you-very-much."
Ding!
[Aww, I love you too, host! Quest Complete!]
The pink window vanished in a shower of sparkles.
On the bed, a new set of clothes materialized from thin air.
It wasn't a suit of armor or a tactical vest. It was just clothes, but they were... nice.
There was a white button-up shirt made of a soft, high-quality fabric that didn't wrinkle. It had a subtle, asymmetrical cut at the collar, giving it a modern edge. There was a pair of black trousers, tailored to fit him properly rather than hanging off his hips like a sack. And sitting on top of the pile was a simple, black silk ribbon.
Cedric sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. He stripped off his arcade clothes and put on the new set.
The shirt felt light against his skin. It fit perfectly, hugging his shoulders just enough to suggest he actually had a frame underneath. The trousers were comfortable, allowing movement without being baggy.
He picked up the black ribbon.
[Tie it back. Show your face. You have a jawline now, might as well use it.]
Cedric gathered his long, heavy black hair. He smoothed it back, pulling it away from his face, exposing his forehead and neck for the first time in… he couldn't remember how long. He tied it into a low, neat ponytail with the ribbon.
He stepped back and looked in the mirror.
The person staring back didn't look like a ghost anymore. He didn't look like a victim.
Without the curtain of hair to hide his features, the true nature of his face was revealed. It was striking. Delicate. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his eyelashes long and dark against his pale skin. His purple eyes, usually dull, seemed brighter now, framed by the white collar.
He looked... pretty. Almost too pretty. There was a softness to his features that blurred the line between handsome and beautiful. An androgynous grace that he hadn't noticed before because he had been too busy trying to disappear.
"Too... fancy," he muttered, touching his cheek. He felt exposed. Without his hair to hide behind, he felt like he was walking around without skin. "People will look."
[Let them look. You look like a prince. A grumpy, reluctant prince, but a prince nonetheless. Now go. Don't be late.]
***
The walk to Random Play was strange.
Cedric walked down Sixth Street, clutching a paper bag to his chest. Inside were the Oran, Sitrus and Lum berries he had saved—the System insisted he bring a gift, and fruit seemed safe. And with his two Incubators on the belt.
The streets were busy with the evening crowd. And Cedric was right. People looked.
A group of girls walking in the opposite direction stopped talking as he passed. They whispered behind their hands, their cheeks flushing. A Thiren woman actually stopped in her tracks to watch him go. Even the Bangboos seemed to beep appreciatively.
Cedric kept his head down, walking faster. He felt like an imposter in his own skin. He missed his black t-shirt. He missed being invisible.
He reached the yellow door at exactly 6:55 PM.
Cling-clang.
"I knew you'd be early!" Belle shouted from the counter.
She froze. Her jaw dropped.
"Huh? Cedric?" She walked around the counter, circling him.
"Whoa. Did you just undergo a transformation sequence? You went from 'Drowned Rat' to 'Anime Protagonist' in twenty-four hours. Wise! Come look at this!"
Belle didn't wait for an answer. She grabbed Cedric's wrist with a grip that was surprisingly strong for her size and practically dragged him toward the metal staircase at the back of the shop.
"Come on, come on! The popcorn is going to get cold!"
"W-Wait," Cedric stumbled, struggling to keep his balance as he was towed up the steps like a piece of reluctant luggage.
"No waiting! Movie night schedule is tight!" Belle announced, hauling him up to the second floor loft.
The living area upstairs was transformed. The lights were already dimmed to a warm, cozy glow. A high-end projector was humming, projecting a "No Signal" blue screen onto the white wall. The low table was laden with snacks: bowls of popcorn, bottles of soda, potato chips, and dried squid.
Wise was there, arranging cushions on the sofa. She looked up and smiled as Belle deposited a slightly dizzy Cedric in the middle of the room.
Wise was setting a bowl of popcorn on the low table. She turned around.
She stopped.
Her teal eyes widened slightly as they swept over him—the white shirt, the tied-back hair, the clean lines. The gloomy boy from yesterday was gone, replaced by someone striking.
Wise smiled. It was a warm, appreciative smile.
"Cedric," she said, her voice pleased. "White suits you. You look... very handsome."
She didn't blush or stutter. She said it as a statement of fact.
Cedric, however, felt his ears burn. He wasn't used to compliments. He thrust the paper bag toward her.
"Gift," he said stiffly. "Fruit."
Wise peeked inside. Her eyes widened. "Oh? Fresh berries? I've never seen this variety before, but they look delicious. Wait a moment, I'll go wash them."
Wise smiled, taking the bag and heading toward the kitchenette.
The moment her silhouette disappeared behind the doorframe, the atmosphere in the living room shifted instantly.
Belle, who had been grinning to herself the entire time, suddenly closed the distance. She narrowed her eyes, circling Cedric like a detective inspecting a crime scene.
"Confess," Belle said, poking a finger into the shoulder of Cedric's crisp white shirt. "Who styled you? This whole 'sheltered rich boy' look doesn't match the taste of the kid i met the day before."
Cedric stiffened, his eyes darting away to avoid Belle's scrutinizing gaze. "No one. I... chose it myself."
"Liar," Belle declared flatly. She leaned back against the sofa, crossing her legs. "You have the eyes of someone who can't even distinguish between black and dark blue. There was definitely an 'expert' involved. Or..."
Belle's orange eyes glinted with mischief.
"...Or are you trying to impress my sister?"
Cedric choked on air. His face turning a brilliant shade of red—this time out of genuine embarrassment from the misunderstanding.
"I-It's not that. Just... paying a debt," he stammered, thinking of the System's ridiculous quest.
"Just kidding, don't be so tense," Belle giggled, patting the empty spot next to her on the long sofa.
"Sit down, Prince. Don't stand there like a statue."
Cedric gingerly sat on the very edge of the cushion, maintaining a safe distance from this "dangerous little sister."
A few minutes later, soft footsteps approached. Wise returned, holding a glass plate filled with the washed Oran Berries, droplets of water clinging to their skins like glistening sapphires.
"All done," Wise set the plate down on the table, right next to the popcorn bowl. She looked at the berries with curiosity.
"Say, Cedric, where did you get these? When I was washing them, I noticed the skin is tougher than normal berries, but the smell... wow. It has such a pure scent. Just smelling it makes me feel energized."
Cedric's heart skipped a beat. Oran Berries were items from the Pokémon world; of course, they were different. He quickly recalled the cover story the System had generated for his Black Card funds.
"They were... a gift from a distant relative," he lied, keeping his voice as steady as possible while staring at the projector screen. "They sent a care package. They said it's a new breed from their farm."
"I see," Wise didn't suspect a thing. Her eyes softened with relief.
"That explains why I haven't seen them in the markets. It's good to know you have family looking out for you and sending gifts."
She sat down right next to Cedric, her movement so natural and close that it made him jump slightly.
"Belle, dim the lights. It's time."
"Aye-aye, Captain!" Belle reached over and flipped the wall switch.
The room plunged into a soft, ambient darkness, lit only by the glow from the screen and the streetlights filtering through the blinds. The smell of buttery popcorn mingled with the faint scent of lavender from Wise created a strange, overwhelming sense of safety.
***
At 7:30 PM, the lights dimmed.
They sat on the orange sofa. Belle was on the left, her legs thrown over the armrest. Wise was in the middle. Cedric was wedged into the corner on the right, sitting next to Wise.
The movie began. "Starlight Knight: The Last Stand."
Cedric had intended to just sit there and endure it. But as the plot unfolded, he found himself leaning forward.
On the screen, a lone knight in battered armor stood amidst the ruins of a city. He had lost his family. He had lost his order. The world had turned against him. But he stood there, sword raised against a tide of monsters, shielding a group of civilians behind him.
"Why do you fight?" the villain asked.
"Because even if the sky falls," the Knight rasped, blood dripping from his helmet,
"Hope is the star that never burns out."
Cedric stared at the screen. His purple eyes were wide, unblinking.
Something in his chest tightened. A lump formed in his throat.
It was cheesy. It was fake. It was a movie for children.
But the image of the lone protector... it struck a chord he thought he had severed. The line about hope echoed in his mind, sounding painfully.
He forgot to eat the popcorn. He forgot he was sitting next to a girl. He was completely absorbed, his face open and vulnerable in the flickering light of the screen.
Wise wasn't watching the movie. She was watching him.
She saw the way his eyes shone. She saw the way he held his breath during the fight scenes. The guarded, cynical mask was gone, revealing the sixteen-year-old boy underneath.
'He's cute,' she thought, her heart softening. 'He really is just a kid.'
She reached into the popcorn bowl. She picked up a kernel covered in caramel.
"Say 'ah'," she whispered.
Cedric jumped, snapping out of his trance. He turned to look at her.
Wise was leaning close, smiling gently. She held the popcorn up to his lips.
He hesitated. It was intimate. It was weird.
But the smell of the caramel was sweet. And her eyes were kind.
He opened his mouth.
She fed him the popcorn.
"Pay attention," she chuckled softly. "The best part is coming up."
Cedric turned back to the screen, chewing slowly. The sweetness spread on his tongue.
He sat there, in the warm loft, next to his "Big Sister," watching a hero fight for hope. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like a rock at the bottom of a river.
***
At that moment, in some corner of Cedric's mind where he couldn't hear anything.
[Fufufu, all according to Keikaku. Ma boy will have a girlfriend soon. KYAHAHAHAHA.]
...
...
...
Note: The fanfic's pacing will be improve in the following chapters. Oh, and hey, I really need to turn off the auto-translate mode. I just finished editing the chapter, saved it and half of it is already translated into my mother tongue. So i need to delete and repost it. Hope no one read that version, lol.